


12 Months

by invisiblenonexistence



Category: Hockey RPF, Pittsburgh Penguins - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 09:22:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10434612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisiblenonexistence/pseuds/invisiblenonexistence
Summary: A take on a Russian Fairy tale - Zhenya will do anything to help his mother, even brave the forest in the middle of winter.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a somewhat loose interpretation of the 12 Months fairy tale. There are Penguins, and a few other cameos from various public figures. 
> 
> While this story is mostly gen, there is a bit of fairy tale violence towards the end. It's never a good idea to be evil in a fairy tale.
> 
> You can find me at http://invisiblenonexistence.tumblr.com

 

 

Far, far away, in a small kingdom there was a King that we’ll call Vladimir. Like many King, he had been born into the job, not chosen for any special qualities that he might possess. He was a cold man, demanding, and he ruled his kingdom firmly - and not a little cruelly.

 

No one told King Vladimir “No” to anything, if they could help it. People who displeased the King often came to unfortunate and untimely ends. Which is why when one day he turned to one of his advisors and told him that he wanted a grand party to celebrate the New Year, the advisor quickly agreed.

 

“Of course, Your Imperial Majesty. It will be as grand an affair as our kingdom has ever seen.”

 

King Vladimir’s expression did not change, and he did not look at his advisor as he issued his decree. “I would expect nothing less. I am giving you full responsibility, Sasha. I know you won’t disappoint me.” His tone was flat, and Sasha only prevented himself from shuddering by sheer force of will.

 

Sasha prepared an answer, but it was cut off by the King before he could start to speak. “I would like to see the tables decorated with snowdrops. You can manage that, of course. A very simple request.”

 

And it was a simple request - in April. As it was December, and the ground was frozen, there could be no snowdrops until spring. There was only one answer available to Sasha though, so he nodded. “Of course, Your Imperial Majesty. Your New Year’s festivities will have snowdrops at every table.”

 

King Vladimir looked at Sasha then, his eyes as cold and unforgiving as a midwinter sky. “You should go and make the arrangements.” He waved his hand, and with that gesture Sasha was dismissed.

 

Sasha was not a foolish man. He knew that he had been given an impossible task, and he wondered what he had done to displease the King. Being given this duty could only be some sort of torturous prelude to having Sasha executed.

 

He quickly gathered every messenger he could find.

 

“You will need to go to every town. Every village. As quickly as possible. Offer a reward to anyone who can deliver snowdrops.”

 

The messengers only looked at him incredulously, and Sasha nodded. “I know. I know. But what else can I do? The King wants snowdrops for his table on New Years, and I must deliver them. Maybe, somehow, somewhere, they can be found?”

 

The messengers gave Sasha a pitying look, but dutifully let on their mission. Sasha could only pray that they might be successful.

 

***

 

Far away from Sasha and the King, in a small village in the mountains, lived a young man called Zhenya. He lived with his papa and mama in a tiny cottage, and none of them worried much about decorating their table snowdrops. They were more concerned with earning the coins that kept them fed and clothed - Papa and Zhenya in the mines, and Mama with her small garden.

 

They lived a quiet life, and perhaps their lives would have continued quietly if not for two things that happened that December.

 

Papa and Zhenya came home from their work, and found Mama, pale and sickly, collapsed on the floor.

 

“Mama,” Zhenya cried, as they rushed to her side.

 

Papa helped her to sit up and rested her against his chest. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

 

Mama looked at them both, and started to struggle to stand. “It’s nothing. Nothing at all. I just felt a little weakness. It has passed now.”

 

Papa and Zhenya exchanged a look over Mama’s head, but did not argue. There was never any use in arguing with Mama, since she was always right, even if she wasn’t.

 

It wasn’t until later, after they had helped Mama clear the dishes, and seen her settled sadely in bed that they stepped outside to have a private talk.

 

“She won’t see a doctor,” Papa said quietly, and Zhenya nodded. “She worries too much about the cost.”

 

“I can get the money,” Zhenya said. “I can work more at the mine. I could help Alexei Petrovich, at his farm. He always needs extra hands.”

 

“Zhenya, Zheya,” Papa said kindly. “It’s winter. Petrovich won’t need help until the spring planting. And you spend too much time in the mines already.”

 

“But Mama,” Zhenya objected. “We must help her somehow.”

 

Papa sighed. “We must pray, Zhenya. I think it is only God that can help her without a doctor.”

 

That night, as Zhenya laid in his bed, he hoped and prayed to the stars he could through the window, and asked for a way to help his Mama.

 

The next day offered him a solution.

 

***

 

In the small village square, a man nailed a sign to a tree. A small crowd had gathered, since it wasn’t often than a notice from the King arrived.

 

Zhenya nudged Kolya, ‘What’s this about?”

 

Kolya snorted. “Ridiculous. It wants delivery of snowdrops to the King. Snowdrops of all things, in December. Oh, it offers gold, but what good is gold for something that does not exist?”

 

Zhenya looked over at where some of the older men were laughing at the sign, and taunting the messenger. “Come back in the spring, boy. Do you think we are so stupid, to freeze ourselves hunting for something that isn’t there?”

 

And they were right, of course. Flowers did not bloom on the mountain or in the forest in December. Still, something tugged at Zhenya, a feeling that perhaps this was an answer to his prayers.

 

He left Kolya without saying goodbye, and walked back to his home. Mama was curled into her bed, too weak this morning to stand, and still sleeping. She would be furious when she woke, and realized they had left her sleeping, instead of waking her.

 

Zhenya found a scrap of paper, and a stub of pencil. Then he packed a bag with chunks of bread, some apples. He dressed in his warmest clothes, and took a look back before he closed the door behind him.

 

It was hours later when his father returned and found the note:

 

“Gone for a walk. Back later. Love, Zhenya.”

 

***

 

The main road through the forest was sparsely traveled this time of year, with only the people who lived beyond the village, and the miners venturing out to their camp on the mountain. Soon, the road turned, and Zhenya had to make a decision.

 

Perhaps there were caves in the mountain warm enough to hide flowers, but he’d heard rumors of hot springs deep in the forest. The mountain paths were more familiar, and more traveled, with miners scouting for new veins. The possibility of coming across animals was a danger for either direction. Even if the bears were groggy in their winter naps, wolves would still be out and hunting.

 

He closed his eyes for a moment, and hoped that he might receive some sort of sign on which direction he should take. Nothing happened, and so he could only rely on his own instincts. He turned onto a path that would take him deeper into the forest.

 

The trees grew denser as he walked, and soon his path was indistinguishable from the snowy ground around it. Still, he continued, thinking of his mama, and how only his success could help her.

 

He walked further, and further, until he was very unsure exactly where he was, or how much time had passed. He hoped it would not snow, since only the tracks he left behind him could guide him home again now.

 

The dark branches of trees allowed only patches of grey light to filter through, and though Zhenya was sure that it was still morning, it seemed as dark as dusk already. He looked at the ground, hoping to catch sight of the tracks of hares or other animals that might guide him. The animals always knew where water might be found, and if there were really hot springs hiding in the forest, they must travel there.

 

His lumbering steps seemed loud, crunching through snow, and snapping twigs. Even the birds were quiet, their cries seeming far away, and echoing. Zhenya could almost believe he was the only living creature in the forest, although of course that couldn’t be true.

 

Eventually, he tired, and found a place to rest, just long enough to eat one of the apples he brought. He was not sure how long he would be out here, so it seemed better to make his food last, just in case.

 

Once he sat down, however, it seemed difficult to get started again. The cold seeped through his coat, and sweater, until he shivered. He felt so tired already, and he had found nothing so far, nothing that would help him, and no sign that there was anything here that could. His eyes burned, from the cold, he told himself.

 

Then he stood up abruptly. No, he thought to himself. He could not give up. He must try, and he must succeed.

 

His sudden movement startled a small hare that had been watching him, the first animal he had seen all day, and sent it scampering, darting through the trees.

 

Zhenya looked to the sky, and said a small thank you, since this must be the sign he had asked for.

 

He followed the tracks the hare had left, walking carefully so as not to lose the trail they provided. He felt more hopeful when they didn’t lead into a den, or some other hiding spot, and seemed to continue through the forest. Each step further, and he said another thank you, hoping that perhaps they would lead him to water - a stream, even if it wasn’t a hot spring, might lead him to one if he followed it.

 

In amongst the brambles and branches, he caught another glimpse of the hare, perched on its hind legs and sniffing the air. It seemed to be waiting for him.

 

He walked carefully towards the hare, but it didn’t startle again. “Hello, зайчик,” he whispered. “I’ve heard there are hot springs in the forest. Maybe you’ll show me, huh?”

 

The hare didn’t answer, just looked at him curiously. Then it turned in hopped away. It paused a few meters along, and turned back to look at him as if saying, “Well, come on then.”

 

Zhenya laughed, but he followed. It had grown dark now, although Zhenya couldn’t be sure whether it was because it was late, or because of the dense branches blocking the sky. Still, he didn’t feel nervous following his little friend wherever he led.

 

Eventually, the hare stopped, frozen in place, before scampering deep into the underbrush as quickly as it could.

 

“Hey,” Zhenya called. “Why are you leaving me now?” His voice echoed, but as he listened he realized that its echo wasn’t the only thing he could hear. Somehow, he was certain that he was hearing voices up ahead.

 

He hurried towards the sound, happy at the idea of human company after his long, long day of walking. Soon, the voices grew louder, and he found himself looking at a large clearing that had formed around a pond. And on the pond, were a group of men, skating back and forth across the ice, laughing and running into each other, chasing some small object along with curved sticks.

 

They did not stop, nor did they seem to notice him as he entered the clearing. He settled himself on a log, content to watch the men and their swift, skilled movements. He was quiet until one of them, a young man seemed to score a point. Zhenya clapped, and cheered his approval without thinking.

 

He stopped when all the men turned and stared at him. “Sorry,” he said. “I did not mean to intrude, but I stumbled across your game. It has been such a long day for me, so I stayed to watch.”

 

He walked closer to the ice, only realizing as he did so that it might be a bad idea. A group of men hiding this deep in the forest might be bandits, or criminals. They might not thank him for finding their hideout.

 

One man, a little older than the others, moved away from the group. He looked Zhenya up and down, and shook his head a little in disapproval. “What could you possibly be doing out here? It’s late, and nearly dark. We’re many kilometers from any village. Are you trying to freeze to death? Or perhaps be eaten by wolves?” the man scolded.

 

Zhenya scowled. “Are you my mother,” he said, before he could think better of it.

 

The other man snorted. “If your mother looks like me, she must be very unfortunate. Even more unfortunate than just having a foolish son who gets lost in the woods in the winter.”

 

“I’m not lost,” Zhenya protested. “I’m looking for something.”

 

The other men had moved closer during this conversation, and one of them, a man about Zhenya’s age with dark curls, interrupted. “What are you looking for out here? There’s nothing around here but forest.”

 

Zhenya sighed, and deflated. “It is foolish,” he admitted, looking at the dark-haired man. “I heard there are hot springs deep in the forest. I thought if I found one, maybe I would also find some snowdrops.”

 

The dark-haired man nodded, but the older man laughed. “Snowdrops? It’s December. Your girl will have to wait until spring for you to woo her with flowers. Well, if you don’t freeze out here in the forest searching for something so silly.”

 

“It’s not for wooing a girl. It’s for the King. My mama. She’s sick. We do okay, but doctors are expensive, so she won’t see one. The King wants snowdrops, and there’s a reward. I thought if I could find some, maybe I could use the reward on a doctor for my mama.”

The dark-haired man nodded, and the older man looked a little chastened by Zhenya’s story.

 

The dark-haired man stuck his hand out. “I’m Sidney. This is Sergei. What’s your name?”

 

Zhenya shook Sidney’s hand, and then Sergei’s. “Evgeni.”

 

“I don’t know of any snowdrops out here. Or any hot springs,” Sidney said.

 

Zhenya sighed. “I know. It was a silly hope. But I had to try, you know? It’s Mama. I’d do anything for her.”

 

Sidney was biting his lip, and seemed to want to say something, but Sergei spoke first. “Well, we can at least make sure you are safe tonight, and tomorrow you can go back to your village.”

 

The other men had already crossed the frozen pond, heading towards a thick copse of trees and disappearing between their trunks. Sergei and Sidney gently pulled him along, and it seemed much darker than it had by the pond.

 

When his eyes adjusted, he saw the large cabin, tucked into another clearing, somehow hidden by the thick growth of trees around it. The windows were bright, and the chimney was already smoking. Zhenya wondered how he had missed the cozy smell of woodsmoke that was so obvious to him now.

 

Sidney spoke to him then. “You’ll be our guest. Stay the night. And I’ll help you get back to your village tomorrow. It wouldn’t do any good to keep you safe tonight, only for you to get lost tomorrow.”

 

Zhenya just nodded, already thinking of the cozy fire and the cabin in front of him. He’d ignored how cold he felt for hours, but now all he could think about was feeling warm again.

 

Sidney smiled at him like he could tell what Zhenya was thinking. “You’d better get inside. You must be freezing.” He walked into the cabin, leaving Zhenya and Sergei to follow.

 

He glanced at Sergei, before following.

 

The cabin was spacious, far bigger than his own home, with a large room heated by a huge fireplace on one end, and a stove on the other. One of the men was standing by the stove, stirring a massive pot, shooing others away as they snuck over to peak at what he was making.

 

“Come on Dumo,” one of the men said. “We’ve worked up an appetite. How much longer can it take?”

 

The one he called Dumo just brandished his spoon at the man, and said, “It’ll be done when it’s done. Get out of the way, or I’ll make sure you eat last.”

 

The man didn’t seem chastened, just laughed and went to join the others. Everyone seemed to have settled himself into a chair around a large table, or near the fire, laughing and joking with each other.

 

Zhenya couldn’t help but relax, soaking in the happy atmosphere along with the warmth. They gathered at the table, and ate massive portions of the delicious stew that Dumo prepared for them. Dumo ladled a second helping into Zhenya’s bowl without him even asking, and Zhenya was torn between thanking him for his kindness, and attacking the stew. His manners won out, but only just.

 

With a warm place to stay, and a full stomach, the exhaustion of the day finally seemed to catch up with him. He could barely hold back his yawns, as the other men asked about his village, his family, and his journey to them. It was only then that Sidney quieted them, and pulled Zhenya from the table.

 

“We don’t have a spare bed, but you can share mine for the night. It’s warm, and better than sleeping in the woods at least.” Sidney blushed a little, as if he was embarrassed at the offer, and Zhenya couldn’t help but be charmed.

 

“It’s perfect. You’ve been so kind to me.” Zhenya looked over his shoulder at the other men. “All of you. I’m a stranger who found you by accident, and you’ve fed me, and made me feel at home.”

 

“Stop,” Sidney said, with a small smile. “It’s nothing. You can repay me by not kicking me in the night.”

 

“I never kick,” Zhenya promised. “I sleep like a baby.”

 

Together, Sidney and Zhenya set up his bed, spreading a thin mattress in a clear area safely away from the fire, but close enough to feel its heat. Sidney added pillows, and some soft warm quilts, then shoved Zhenya towards the bed. “You should sleep now. You look exhausted.”

 

Zhenya wasn’t going to argue, so he tucked himself in, and fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

***

 

Zhenya was shaken awake the next morning by Sidney. “You’d better get up. You should have some breakfast before we start out.”

 

Zhenya wanted to ignore him, and curl up under the blankets again. He was still tired, and he didn’t really want to make the long walk back to the village, especially since his whole reason for being out here was a failure.

 

Sidney poked him again. “Come on. It’s a long walk, you know. We need to get started.”

 

Zhenya signed, and got up. The cabin was empty, just him and Sidney left. The others must have left to work on whatever work they did.

 

He flopped into a chair, and Sidney put a steaming bowl of kasha in front of him. Zhenya looked at Sidney, who sat on the other side of the table, although he didn’t have a bowl for himself.

 

“I’ve already eaten,” Sidney explained.

 

Zhenya nodded, and started to feel guilty. He didn’t want to cause this kind man any more trouble. He ate his kasha quickly, and steeled himself for another long trek.

 

When it was time to go, Zhenya stepped outside, and was surprised to see that the trees blocked the sun even now. It was still dark as night, and he could barely see Sidney leading the way through the trees. It seemed like it took a long time before the reached the bright clearing with the pond, and Zheya had to squint against the sunlight after so long in the dark.

 

The pond wasn’t empty, which seemed to surprise Sidney. Sergei was there, along with the young man Zhenya remember scoring a point in their game last night.

 

“What are you doing here,” Sidney asked them.

 

The young man looked at Sergei, and received a nod before he spoke to Sidney and Zhenya. “We were talking, and we agreed. We didn’t want Zhenya to go back empty-handed, especially if we could help his mother.”

 

Zhenya wasn’t sure what they could do to help, but he could feel hope blooming in his chest anyway.

 

Sergei handed something to the young man, and he waved Zhenya over. Where the young man stood, the snow had melted, the grass was green, and there were tiny white flowers blooming all over. Snowdrops.

 

Sergei thrust a basket at Zhenya. “You’ll have to be quick. Gather as many as you can. We can’t let this spread further than the clearing.”

 

Zhenya could only stare, not sure what he was seeing, until the young man dropped a bunch of flowers into the basket.

 

“Come on. We don’t have long.”

 

That got Zhenya moving, and soon all four of them were picking snowdrops, filling the basket until it should have been overflowing with flowers.

 

The young man handed a small silver cup back to Sergei, and the flowers and grass were soon gone, replaced with heavy snow drifts again.

 

“I don’t understand. How,” Zhenya started, before shaking himself. He had prayed for a miracle and been given one. He wasn’t going to spoil it by asking too many questions. Instead, he said, “Thank you. Thank you so much. I will never be able to repay what you’ve done for me.”

 

Sergei slapped him on the back. “Now, you get your mother taken care of. And stop wandering through the woods like an idiot in the cold.”

 

The younger man smiled at him. “Don’t worry about the flowers. They’ll keep. Take care of yourself, too.”

 

Zhenya felt a tug on his sleeve, and there was Sidney smiling. “Well, we better get you back, yeah? You have a reward to collect, and a mother to help.”

 

***

When they reached the familiar roads near the village, Sidney pulled Zhenya to a stop.

 

“Now, you have to promise me something,” Sidney said, his face serious, and a little sad. “You can’t tell anyone about us. Not even your mother, or your father. Okay? If people ask, just say you found a hot spring, like you planned to.”

 

Zhenya nodded. “But can I visit you again? It’s far, but it was nice. I’d like to know everyone. Maybe you could show me how to play that game you all like.”

 

Sidney smiled, and then grabbed Zhenya’s hand. He dropped a ring into his open palm. “We’re a bit difficult to find, but use this. It will bring you to us. You can visit whenever you’d like.” He held Zhenya’s eyes for a moment, and Zhenya looked back, memorizing the handsome face of this stranger who had been such a help to him.

 

“Okay,” he said, and pulled Sidney in for a long hug. “We’ll see each other again.”

 

Sidney nodded against his chest, and then stepped back. “Take care.”

 

And then he disappeared back into the forest, as if he had never been there at all.

 

 

***

 

The man who greeted him at the palace was tall, although not as tall as Zhenya. His eyes were bright, and his hair was grey, even though he didn’t seem old enough for grey hair. He introduced himself very formally as “Alexander Mikhailovich”.

 

Zhenya wondered if he was supposed to bow, although he hoped someone would have warned him if he was being taken to the king. Since he wasn’t sure what to do, he just stood there, clutching his basket of flowers as Alexander Mikhailovich looked him up and down.

 

“Well, Evgeni Vladimirovich, I don’t know how you managed it, but you did. The King will be pleased,” Alexander Mikhailovich said, and Zhenya would have sworn the man’s expression looked strangely triumphant. “Now, we’ll take those, and prepare your reward.”

 

Zhenya handed the basket to a man who hurried over to collect it. It was replaced with a new basket of similar size, that startled Zhenya with its weight. He peeked inside, and found that it was filled with gold.

 

“I hope it’s sufficient. We didn’t really specify an amount, but I thought this would be suitable. A basket for a basket - a fair exchange,” Alexander Mikhailovich said cheerfully.

 

Zhenya nodded dumbly. He had never seen so much gold in his life. He couldn’t even imagine what he’d do with it. He’d never thought further than finding the money for a doctor, and helping his mama.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking,” Alexander Mikhailovich said, then continued without actually waiting for a response. “How did you manage to find snowdrops in December? Until I saw it, I never would have thought it was possible.”

 

Zhenya had thought this would happen, and was glad he’d taken time to prepare a story. He launched into it with vigor, telling about his long, cold trek through the woods, going on rumors and hopes that he might find a hot spring that warmed the air enough to fool the flowers into growing in winter. Zhenya even added a run-in with some wolves, just for good measure and to make the story more interesting.

 

Alexander Mikhailovich listened raptly, and nodded as Zhenya spoke. “What a clever idea! And quite amazing that it turned out to be correct. I would have thought magic was involved, but instead it was a hidden spring warming the air enough to keep winter at bay.”

 

“I had wanted to hire a doctor for my mother,” Zhenya said cautiously. “She’s been ill, but she was afraid of the expense, and wouldn’t go to see one.”

 

“We’ll send our best doctor to your village right now. Doctor Datsyuk is brilliant; some even say he is magic.” Alexander Mikhailovich laughed. “Although, I suppose you might know something about magic, don’t you.” Alexander Mikhailovich winked. “Not that I’m complaining. You’ve saved my life with this.”

 

“Now, I think it might be best if you left the palace,” Alexander Mikhailovich said, suddenly more serious than Zhenya had seen him, and directly into Zhenya’s ear. “You’ve done a great thing, but the palace can be a dangerous place. The king is...capricious, and might have more questions than you are able to answer. I’ll send some guards with you, of course. Traveling with all that gold unprotected wouldn’t be any safer than staying any longer in the palace.” And then, Alexander Mikhailovich leaned back, and was all smiles again.

 

Zhenya could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and turned to see who was watching them. He couldn’t see anyone, but he felt uneasy now. Combined with Alexander Mikhailovich’s warning, he was glad to go as soon as possible.

 

***

 

Alexander Mikhailovich bustled him into a carriage, and wished him a safe journey. Zhenya stayed awake the entire long drive to his village, clutching his basket of gold, just in case.

 

***

 

He finally felt safe again when he was back at his own cottage. He walked in, took his shoes off, and took a deep breath, inhaling all the comforting smells of home.

 

He closed his eyes for a moment, but was pulled from his happiness abruptly by his mama’s sharp tug on his ear.

 

“How could you disappear without saying anything,” she scolded. “Do you know how worried I’ve been? Your father was looking for you everywhere, and what was he to think when the neighbors told him that you’d been taken to the king? We thought you’d been arrested!” Mama dropped dramatically into a chair. “I’m lucky that God didn’t choose to take me then!”

 

Zhenya couldn’t help himself. He laughed. “Mama, you won’t believe what I have for you.” He handed the heavy basket to her, and watch her expression change from shock to wonder as she looked inside.

 

“Zhenechka, this is a fortune. How did you get this?”

 

And Zhenya launched into his story, from wandering in the woods, to his escape from the palace.

 

***

 

Things seemed to be going smoothly for Zhenya and his family.

 

Doctor Datsyuk arrived the next day, and after a thorough examination, provided potions and pills, and extensive instructions for Mama’s care. “She’ll be well again by spring,” Doctor Datsyuk pronounced confidently. Even Mama seemed to believe him, and Zhenya was surprised that she followed his every instruction religiously. She seemed better almost immediately, and only continued to improve. Perhaps Doctor Datsyuk really was magic.

 

It was only days until the New Year, and the whole village seemed somehow happier than they had been in years past. Maybe because Zhenya and his family shared some of their good fortune with their village, secreting gold coins into the pockets of their friends and neighbors as they went on holiday visits.

 

Zhenya found himself thinking about Sidney, about Sergei and the others, and absently twisting the ring that he kept on his finger.

 

He made up his mind to go and visit, and packed himself a bag with some apples, and black bread. He left a note for his parents and set off down the road, following it until the path that lead deeper into the woods.

 

He was startled to hear the sound of hoofbeats behind him.

 

Several men surrounded him, and soon a grand carriage arrived. The man the exited from it was short, but very stern, and the coldness of his eyes frightened Zhenya.

 

One of the men pushed Zhenya to his knees in the snow. “Show respect for you king, stupid peasant,” the man growled.

 

The King waved the guard away, and walked over to Zhenya, who kneeled there with his eyes fixed on the ground. “You’ve caused me quite a bit of trouble,” the King said conversationally. “I had a plan, you understand. Sasha has become far too well liked at court, and there have been whispers that maybe he should replace me. Now, obviously I can’t have someone threatening my throne, even if they are family. You understand.”

 

Zhenya made a small nod, and continued to stare at the ground.

 

“I gave him an impossible task. There is no way that he should have been able to accomplish it. And then here you come, using witchcraft or magic to help him. I could have you killed for that,” the King said, his voice still quiet and flat, unemotional, as if he didn’t care whether Zhenya lived or died. And of course, he didn’t. Who was Zhenya to a King?

 

“But then it occurred to me that someone with magic, real magic might be useful. Now you, you obviously have no magic, or you would have used it to escape. But you obviously know someone who does. So, now you are going to take me to them. Or I’ll have to kill you right here. Then my men will move on to your village, and kill everyone there. Am I making myself clear?”

 

Zhenya nodded again, unable to speak. He had promised Sidney, and he had never broken a promise. But he also couldn’t let these men destroy his village. He could only hope that Sidney would understand. Maybe, he could get them lost enough in the woods that he could escape

 

He stood up, and straightened until he towered over the evil little King. “Okay. I will take you there. But it’s very far, and very cold. You won’t be able to travel on your horses.”

 

A guard used his sword to remind Zhenya of the danger he was in, but he could hear them all following him into the forest. He twisted his ring, and thought of Sidney. He would keep his promise as best he could, and maybe Sidney would forgive him.

 

Zhenya couldn’t remember the path he had taken to the secret clearing in the woods, but it didn’t matter. He kept walking, knowing that if Sidney said his ring would bring him back, then it would. He tried to take the most difficult paths, crawling over rocks and trees, going through the thickest underbrush, but it made no difference. Much sooner than before, he saw the pond in front of him, and the men laughing and playing their game.

 

He felt it the moment Sidney saw him, and he put just enough distance between himself and the guards to shout to his friends. “Run! Don’t let them take you!”

 

Maybe they didn’t hear his warning, Zhenya thought, as he saw his friends moving towards him, and heard to guards closing in behind him. He could feel tears welling in his eyes, and yelled to them again, only for his shouts to be lost in the sudden gust of wind that blew down from the mountains.

 

The force of the gale knocked him down, and sharp ice began to swirl in the air, vicious, stinging bites on his skin. This is my punishment,” Zhenya thought. “For breaking my promise, and leading danger here.”

 

He was startled when he felt strong arms pull him to his feet, and yank him along. He opened his eyes, and there was Sidney, pulling him toward the pond at a run that shouldn’t have been possible in all the snow.

 

They ran past Sergei, who nodded at him before holding his hand out again - guiding the wind and ice in its attack against the King and his guards.

 

From the pond he could see them stumbling and disoriented. Then Sergei let out an unearthly howl that made Zhenya’s legs nearly crumple from underneath him.

The trees themselves seemed to echo the call, until it wasn’t echos but a pack of wolves. The wolves ran from the trees, and lunged for the guards, who had foolishly dropped their swords when the ice blinded them. They never saw the attack coming. Nor did the King, whose screams reverberated so loudly, that Zhenya had to cover his ears to make them stop.

 

He didn’t open his eyes until Sidney pulled his hands down. “Are you okay,” Sidney asked, his voice filled with concern.

 

Zhenya was startled. “Me? Yes, I’m fine. I’m so sorry. They attacked me outside of the village. I thought maybe I could escape, lose them in the woods, but we arrived so quickly. I didn’t have time. I’m sorry.”

 

Sidney’s eyes were wide. “Why are you sorry? You kept your promise. You didn’t tell them anything. And I heard your warning. We were prepared.” Sidney gave a grim little smile. “Sergei has been so mellow this winter, that I think he enjoyed getting to exercise a bit of winter fury.”

 

Zhenya looked down at Sidney, unsure what to say. He finally settled on. “I’m happy to see you again. I wish it wasn’t like this, though.”

 

Sidney was still holding Zhenya’s hands. “I’m happy to see you too. Even like this. Maybe this time you could stay a bit longer. I promised we’d teach you how to play hockey.”

 

Zhenya smiled. “Okay. You show me how to play. And then, I’ll win at your game.”

 

Sidney laughed. “I don’t know about that. But you can try.”

 

***

 

Epilogue

 

When King Vladimir disappeared into the forest one day and never returned, no one was especially sorry. They soon crowned a new king, and loved him so much that he was called King Alexander the Great.

 

Zhenya learned how to play hockey with his friends in the forest, and spent more and more time there until he only went back to the village to visit his parents from time to time. They were safe and happy, and Zhenya had found what his mama had always hoped he would find - love, and a life that made him happy.

 

The End

 

 

 

You can find me over on [tumblr](http://madelfdisease.tumblr.com)

 

 


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